


Suspended in the Moment

by casuallyhl



Series: Daddy Louis AU [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Louis, Daddy Kink, Daddy Louis, Dom Louis, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, Fluff, Lapdance, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Pole Dancing, Riding, Smut, Sub Harry, Subspace, Top Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2018-09-22 22:30:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9628100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casuallyhl/pseuds/casuallyhl
Summary: But at this point, Harry’s curiosity has become too much, and he needs to know what’s in that folder.He clicks on it, and nearly falls off the bed.There is no way in hell he could have ever prepared for the content of the folder.Before him is picture after picture of Louis in tight, clinging suspenders.Or, Harry finds an old video of Louis. Louis decides to recreate it, but with a twist.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Oh my word daddy kink! The first fic I ever read had daddy kink, and because of that, I thought the norm for every HL fic was to include daddy kink. It was definitely a shock to me when I learned that it wasn't! So daddy kink is very close to my heart and writing this was a dream.
> 
> Now to the suspenders. After much debate with my British housemates of whether they are called suspenders or braces (apparently the British suspenders are lingerie??), I am going with the American term of suspenders. So, to avoid any confusion, [this](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/af/bd/ea/afbdeaa8efe4109daa66ada2b0c8dc38.jpg) is the outfit I envisioned in the video Harry finds. 
> 
> Thank you to my friend and beta [Rachel](http://scholasticdreamer.tumblr.com/) for helping me create this idea. This fic - as with all my fics - wouldn't have happened without you! xx The revolution starts...NOW!

Harry has been planning his wedding since he was six years old.

He’s always known that he wants sunflowers and peonies for his bouquet and for his first dance to be Elvis’ “Can’t Help Falling in Love” (as cliché as it may be). He’s had every detail down to the monogram font for the napkins planned as long as he can remember. What he hadn’t known way back then, was Louis, and just how amazing it would feel to plan his wedding with the love of his life.

Harry and Louis met three years ago when Harry’s photography studio did a shoot for an up and coming musician named Niall Horan. Louis was Niall’s manager and best friend from uni. At the time, Harry was only twenty-four, still working his way up in the photography industry. His job mainly consisted of editing the photos, not taking them or staging them. He didn’t mind the work since he had to start somewhere, but his real passion lay in actually taking the photos.

The day of the photoshoot, Louis had swept into the studio in a sharp, expensive suit. The cut fit him perfectly. The trousers clung to his arse so tightly it was as if they didn’t want to let go. The wide shoulders and narrow waist of the jacket gave Louis an undeniable sense of power and authority…even in a photography studio he had never been in before.

Harry had been instantly enchanted. He had never seen a man so attractive and so authoritative in all his life, and it made his mouth go dry just looking at him. At first, Louis had barely paid Harry any mind, barking orders into his phone while Niall posed for the camera with his guitar against a white backdrop.

Harry stood off to the side, watching the shoot take place and also keeping a totally-not-creepy eye on Louis. He was trying to work up the nerve to talk to the unbearably attractive manager when Louis turned to look at him.

“Sorry,” Louis had said in a voice that suggested he wasn’t really sorry at all. “We have this studio booked for another hour. Your shoot will have to wait.”

Harry’s brows had knitted together. “What?”

Louis huffed a sigh, tapping something into his phone before looking up at Harry. “I know the Gucci shoot is scheduled after us, but you can’t simply come in here before we’re done. We’re booked here for another hour.”

“Who told you Gucci was shooting here next?” Harry asked dumbly. _Because that was obviously the most important thing to take from that_ , Harry groaned internally.

“Melissa,” Louis replied, referring to Harry’s boss. “So if you would please mind waiting until we’re finished, then the studio is all yours.”

“Um, I’m not with Gucci,” Harry said, but it came out more as a question. “I work here. At the studio. My name’s Harry Styles.” He offered his hand, but Louis stared at him blankly for a moment.

“ _You_ work here?” There was shock in Louis’ voice, but Harry wasn’t sure its source. His hand still hung in limbo.

Harry nodded.

Louis had huffed a laugh. “And here I was thinking you were a damn Gucci model.” He grabbed Harry’s hand, shaking it firmly. “Louis Tomlinson. I’m Niall Horan’s manager.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Harry had said as Louis released his hand. It tingled from the warmth of Louis’ palm. “You thought I was a Gucci model?” Harry asked incredulously.

Louis’ cheeks pinked, and Harry’s stomach swooped. He had made this powerful, beautiful man blush. Harry wanted to take out his camera to capture the exact shade of the light, flower petal pink of his cheeks.

“Well yeah,” Louis had said, gesturing towards Harry as if it was obvious. Granted, Harry had been wearing a particularly loud and colorful floral top that day. It was a knockoff brand, because never in hell could he afford Gucci on his salary, as much as he may want to.

When Harry had looked back at Louis, his cheeks were still pink and he looked slightly flustered. “That was rude of me to be so dismissive,” Louis had apologized. “I just assumed you were trying to kick us out of the studio early.”

Harry had smirked, giving Louis a slow onceover. God, he was so stunning up close. Harry wanted to run his hands all over Louis and see if he felt sharp like the suit implied, or if he was soft underneath.

When Harry met Louis’ eyes, the pink of Louis’ cheeks had blossomed to a deep cherry red.

“No, Louis,” Harry had replied, smiling confidently. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you want.”

And Louis had done just that. Even when the shoot was done, Louis hung around until Harry finished work, and then took him to dinner. They fell easily into one another, finding out all their similarities and quirks. Less than a week later, Louis kissed Harry for the first time, a month later they became boyfriends, two months later Harry told Louis he loved him, and just before their year anniversary they moved in together.

Now here they are, three years later, planning their wedding and just as in love as when they first met.

Harry’s been working on the wedding video for a couple of days now. He’s still waiting for his mum to send his baby photos, but he already has Louis’ photos from Jay. She had joined Harry for lunch earlier in the week, bringing with her box after box of Louis’ baby photos. When Harry quirked a brow at the sheer volume, Jay shrugged, telling him, “He was my only baby for seven years. I didn’t do anything other than take photos of him.”

And Harry understands why – he’s seen baby photos of Louis before and he knows that Louis was the most precious child to ever exist. Louis always groans at the photos, disparaging his bowl haircut. But Harry loves it, loves how soft baby Louis’ hair always looks, the exact same milk chocolate color it is now. Harry loves the pictures of Louis’ different stages of toothlessness. Louis always shoots the camera wide grins, sometimes with no teeth, and sometimes with a scattering amount of teeth. Louis always rolls his eyes at the photos, but Harry can see from the slight rosiness of his cheeks that he’s pleased.

That’s how Harry finds himself one Thursday afternoon, home with a day off from work and ready to gush over pictures of baby Louis. Louis is working today as Niall has a round of promotion for the new single he released last week. Harry has moved up at the photography studio, now one of the principal photographers. He loves his work, but is thankful for the day off. He isn’t booked again until Monday, and he plans to use the time to do some wedding planning. After all, it’s only five months until the big day.

Clad only in a pair of worn boxer shorts, he lounges on his and Louis’ soft double bed, surrounded by boxes overflowing with pictures of young Louis. At first, Harry went through the photos just to admire them instead of working on the wedding video, and he doesn’t think anyone can blame him. He’s been desperately in love with Louis for three years, and, as Louis’ fiancé, has every right to gawk and coo and kiss every sweet baby photo.

It’s well after lunchtime by the time he actually gets around to sorting through the photos. He has piles around him: photos he wants to use for certain, photos he could potentially use, and photos he knows that he doesn’t want to use. Needless to say, the photos-to-use stack is so tall that it’s tipping precariously. The no pile currently only has one photo, and it’s a blurry one where only Louis’ arm is in the shot.

As he holds two pictures in his hands – one of Louis holding a newborn Fizzy and another of Louis on his first day of primary school – Harry wonders idly if he should have left this job to Louis. At this rate, the wedding video is going to be two and a half hours of nothing but Louis’ baby photos. As much as Harry would love that, their guests may not be as thrilled.

Harry carefully moves the stacks to his bedside table, unable to hide a fond smile at the picture on top of Louis perched in Jay’s lap, snuggling into his mum’s embrace.

Once the stacks are carefully placed to the side, Harry pulls the closest box into his lap. It’s nearly empty – all its contents are now in stacks on Harry’s bedside table – but there’s still a small something at the very bottom. A flash drive.

Jay had mentioned it briefly when she dropped off the boxes. Once digital cameras became the norm, their photos became stored on their laptops instead of in photo albums. Clearly thinking ahead, Jay had placed those photos on a flash drive for Harry to go through.

Harry pulls his laptop onto the bed and plugs in the flash drive. As the pictures load, Harry smiles softly at his desktop background. It’s a picture from his and Louis’ holiday earlier this summer. They’d gone on a weeklong excursion through Tuscany, visiting Florence and Milan and Verona. The picture is of the two of them on top of Verona’s Giardino Giusti. Louis is kissing Harry’s cheek, a wide smile on his face with the city of Verona stretched behind them.

Harry can’t help but smile at the memory. They’d spent the day sightseeing under the hot Italian sun, exploring the local markets, messily eating sweet gelato, and sharing sticky kisses along the riverside. When they’d made it back to the hotel, Louis hadn’t let the exhaustion of the day stop him from opening Harry up reverently with his fingers and tongue before fucking him slowly, murmuring words of love and adoration in Harry’s ear.

The files finally load, dated and labeled precisely, and Harry smiles at the meticulous organization system that is so inherently Louis. Undoubtedly, Louis’ intelligence and hard work ethic are necessary for his job, but it’s his almost obsessive need to always be organized that makes him such an excellent manager.

Harry clicks on the folder marked Year One and scrolls through picture after picture of Louis from uni. His face is a bit rounder than it is now, although the defined cut of his cheekbones is still undeniable. His eyes are bright in all the pictures – lots of shots of him and his mates out at bars and clubs, cheap beer in hand. Harry loves seeing this side of Louis – young and carefree, reckless.

He can’t help it when he copy-and-pastes all the folders to his desktop. Harry already has multiple folders of Louis, so a couple more surely won’t hurt. He feels warm as he thinks about the last photoshoot Louis did for Harry. They drove miles outside of London until Harry found a field of flowers – violets, specifically – freshly bloomed and vibrant in the sunlight. Completely isolated, Louis took off all his clothes and Harry took photo after photo of him in the flowers, the deep purple of the violets magnifying the color of Louis’ eyes in an electric way. He had photographed him until the sight of naked Louis had been too much, and they made love amongst the flowers.

He shakes his head from those thoughts as he moves onto the folder marked Year Three. He scrolls through the pictures and various folders, but then his eye catches on a folder marked “XXX DELETE DELETE DELETE XXX.”

Harry hovers the cursor over the folder, confused by the name. The file name quite blatantly encourages curiosity, but Harry doesn’t want to intrude on anything private. Louis may be his fiancé, but that doesn’t mean he’s not entitled to his own privacy. Part of what makes their relationship so strong is that Louis loves to let Harry into the private parts of his life – his growing up, his fears, his dreams, his insecurities. And Harry shares the same, but they don’t feel entitled to the other’s secrets.

Harry is pretty sure Louis has told him about the wildest things he did during his uni days – his on-again, off-again relationship with a man named Zayn, the six months he worked as an exotic dancer to pay for his last term, and his brief experimentation with hard drugs. Harry knows all of this, and it doesn’t bother him (in fact, Harry _loves_ when Louis brings the skills his picked up as an exotic dancer into the bedroom).

But he still can’t help but wonder. He knows Louis had a rough time the last few months of uni, really struggling financially and he’d told Harry that he’d taken any possible odd job to pay the bills.

Naturally, Harry’s mind goes for the most ridiculous.

 _Oh my God, what if it’s a sex tape_ , Harry thinks. _What if he made a_ porno? On one hand, that’s really hot. In addition to his multiple naked photo shoots of Louis on his laptop, Harry also has multiple videos of Louis getting himself off, whether that’s with his fingers, with a vibrator, or with nothing at all. Harry does nothing but watch those videos when Louis is away for work.

But on the other hand, he doesn’t find it that hot thinking about his fiancé having sex with someone else. He and Louis both get shtick from their friends for being unbelievably possessive, and he doesn’t like to think of someone else putting their hands on Louis. Especially when they probably didn’t deserve to touch him.

Squinting at the thumbnail, it doesn’t look like porn. In fact, he can make out that the picture is of Louis, and in fact, he is fully clothed. But at this point, Harry’s curiosity has become too much, and he needs to know what’s in that folder.

He clicks on it, and nearly falls off the bed.

There is no way in hell he could have ever prepared for the content of the folder.

Before him is picture after picture of Louis in tight, clinging suspenders.

He looks so young, _God_ does he look so young. His chestnut brown hair swoops carelessly across his forehead, his skin golden and unblemished. He’s wearing a fitted white button up and purple trousers so tight Harry can feel them squeezing his own lungs.

But it’s the suspenders that really make his breathing jackrabbit. They frame Louis’ perfectly toned chest, gripping him snuggly and accentuating all his curves – his waist, his arse, his dick.

Where did all these pictures come from? Harry doesn’t understand. He didn’t think Louis ever went through a twink phase, but he can’t really find himself to care if he’s wrong. Not when there’s photo after photo of Louis in his dorm room, posing for the camera, either with a pouty smile or a cheeky grin, almost as if he knew these pictures would cause his future fiancé to lose his mind.

Harry’s eyes rapidly skim at the rows of pictures, his heart hammering in his chest and his cock perking up at the sight of his unbelievably sexy fiancé. God, he’s feeling lightheaded.

He flips through picture after picture, and finally lands on a video that explains everything.

It’s Louis, Niall, and several of their friends Harry has met a couple of times before. There’s five of them, and they’re all on stage. Above the stage hangs a banner that says, “University of Manchester Talent Show,” and when the opening chords of Take That’s “Everything Changes” fill the auditorium, it all makes sense.

The crowd erupts in screams as the five boys begin dancing, but Harry can’t take his eyes off Louis. Like present day Louis, he absolutely commands attention. He struts around the stage, singing his heart out and shaking his hips fearlessly to the beat. Even through the poor video quality, Harry can see Louis’ eyes shining, his mouth stretched into a wide grin as he sings.

Harry feels a tug at his heart – he knew Louis loved performing, and he loves listening to Louis’ high, raspy voice sing him sweet songs – but he never knew what a natural Louis was on stage. He has the audience wrapped around his finger as they sing back every word to him.

Harry’s breath hitches as Louis comes to the side of the stage nearest the camera. He throws the camera a cheeky grin, shaking his hips slowly in an almost young John Travolta manner.

And that’s it for Harry. He’d been able to ignore his hardening cock in favor of staring at this young, confident, and sexy version of Louis, but he suddenly feels as if he doesn’t get a hand on himself, he might explode.

He all but dumps the laptop onto the bed next to him as he leans back against the pillows, trying to make himself comfortable. He doesn’t even bother pulling his boxers off, just shimmying them down enough so that his cock springs free, already fully hard and leaking at the slit.

When Harry wraps his hand around his length, a low, guttural groan escapes his lips. He strokes himself lightly, hissing at the rough drag. He turns his attention back to the video, and nearly moans at the sight. Louis dances around the stage, carefree and happy, his bum bouncing mesmerizingly.

Harry thumbs the slit of his cock as he watches, spreading the precome to make the drag a little easier. When the video comes to an end, Harry flaps his free hand to hit the repeat button, determined to come just from his hand and the sight of Louis in suspenders.

He watches the video transfixed as it plays through time and time again. He’s spellbound by the sight of Louis, effortless and cocky and perfect on screen. He has complete and total command of the audience, and Harry knows the feeling. Knows that it’s impossible to look away from Louis, knows it’s impossible not to fall under his spell, his control. Harry doesn’t even fight it as he feels himself slipping, captivated by the beautiful man on screen demanding his unwavering attention.

Harry’s strokes become more and more irregular as he feels the heat pooling in his belly. He feels so close to coming already, just needs that something extra to push him over the edge.

He drags his left hand over his face, and immediately gets an idea.

He drops his right hand from his cock, quickly taking it in his left hand. It’s a bit awkward jerking himself off using his non-dominant hand, but the rough drag from the cool metal of his engagement ring drives Harry absolutely wild. The ring on his finger tells everyone – friends, family, and strangers alike – that he is Louis’. That Louis has claimed him, put this ring on his finger after asking him the sweetest question in the world to show everyone that he loves Harry enough to marry him. To want to spend the rest of his life with him.

He moans loudly at the thought of spending the rest of his life with the man he loves the most, his belly heating and his balls tightening.

Just then, the door opens and he hears a gasp. “Harry?”

Harry throws his head to the side, taking in the sight of Louis standing at the door with a white knuckled grip on the handle. Just home from work, Louis’ dressed in one of his best suits – all clean lines and close cuts. His hair is brushed off his face in a neat quiff, not showing any signs of drooping despite the long day of work. Louis looks impeccable and so sexy, like he always does, but he contrasts so profoundly with the younger, flamboyant version on screen. But they’re the same – they both have Harry wrapped around his finger. Harry’s breath stutters at the sight of his fiancé, hot and overwhelmed. Louis’ eyes are wide, his mouth hanging open, and Harry can already see the line of his dick in his trousers.

And that’s all it takes. “Daddy!” Harry practically screams, coming all over himself with one final drag of his fist. His vision whites out, flames lapping behind his eyelids as he comes and comes.

When he finishes coming, he feels Louis’ hands on him, but Harry’s eyes are too heavy to open. “Harry,” Louis murmurs, rubbing his thumbs across Harry’s cheeks. “Baby, are you okay? God, you’re so tense. _Baby_ …”

Harry struggles to catch his breath, chest heaving. In between gasps of air, Louis suddenly crashes down on Harry, tongue immediately darting into Harry’s open mouth. All the air is immediately sucked right out of his lungs as Louis licks hungrily into his mouth. The kisses are hot and biting, desperate and addictive.

Without breaking the kiss, Louis shifts so that he’s straddling Harry, the cool silky material of his suit rubbing against Harry’s thighs. Harry’s mouth is slack, so he continues to let Louis bite and suck, taking whatever he wants from Harry. When Louis grinds down slightly, Harry can already feel Louis hard against him. Harry moans into Louis’ mouth.

“God, baby,” Louis gasps as he breaks away. “You’re perfect. Can’t believe how hot you are. God, I love you so much.”

“Daddy,” Harry can’t help but whimper. “Daddy, _need you_.” He’s just come, but his cock is still half-hard, just from the sight of Louis and his touch.

“You’re a livewire, baby,” Louis continues, hands rubbing down his chest lightly. “What’s gotten into you?”

It’s at that moment that the crowd from the video lets out a particularly loud cheer. Harry’s eyes slowly blink open to focus on his fiancé. But Louis isn’t looking at him anymore, and his hands have stilled on Harry’s skin. With wide eyes, Louis takes in the sight of the video as it replays.

When Louis looks back down at Harry, his eyes are shining, a smirk on his lips.

“Did my baby get all worked up from seeing his Daddy dressed up like that?”

Harry whimpers and nods his head.

“Baby,” Louis purrs, awe saturating his tone. “Oh baby, let me take care of you. Let Daddy take care of you.”

“Please,” Harry gasps, wrapping his arms around Louis to pull him close.

Louis comes easily, lying on top of Harry so that they can press their lips together again. Louis’ hands flatten on Harry’s chest as their lips slide together, and Harry wonders if Louis can feel his heartbeat under his fingertips. At Louis’ touch, it races wildly, desperate and excited for any attention Louis gives him.

Harry slides his hands up from Louis’ back into his hair. It’s stiff from the gel and hairspray he uses to perfect his quiff, and Harry suddenly has the uncontrollable urge to mess it up. He runs his fingers through the tacky, taut strands, pulling them apart and scratching his blunt nails against Louis’ scalp.

Louis moans at the sensation, pulling back from Harry’s lips with a slick pop. Harry lazily blinks his eyes open and feels his heart stutter at the sight. Louis’ pupils are blown, the black completely overtaking the light blue. His hair sticks up in a hundred different directions, messy and wild from Harry’s hands.

“Daddy,” Harry sighs. “You’re the most beautiful.”

Louis smiles fondly down at Harry, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Oh, baby,” he whispers. “No one could ever be as beautiful as you.”

Harry preens at the compliment, brain already feeling a bit fuzzy from Louis calling him baby in _that voice_.

Louis leans down to give Harry another soft kiss. “Wanna make you come again,” Louis says against Harry’s mouth.

Harry whines, pulling Louis closer.

Louis chuckles at Harry’s eagerness, giving him another gentle kiss. “I wanna come too,” Louis continues. He lazily rolls his hips against Harry’s thigh, and Harry can feel his hardness. Harry moans outright, hips twitching. “Feel how hard you’ve made me,” Louis purrs against Harry’s lips. “Just from coming home and finding you naked and perfect and getting yourself off. Most perfect boy.” He nips at Harry’s lips harshly, making them throb deliciously. “Best thing in the world – coming home to find you naked and desperate for your Daddy’s cock.”

“Always,” Harry whines, rolling his hips.

“Gonna give my baby what he wants,” Louis breathes.

But then Louis leans back, sitting up in Harry’s lap and leaving him feeling cold. Harry whines instinctively at the loss of warmth, but Louis immediately shushes him. “Gonna take off my clothes, baby. Don’t you want your Daddy naked?”

Harry nods immediately, sitting up quickly to help Louis with the buttons of his shirt. He loves helping Louis with menial tasks like this when they’re playing. When Louis becomes Daddy, Harry doesn’t think he should have to do tedious things like unbuttoning clothes. Not when he has a baby who loves pleasing him, loves doing anything at all to show his Daddy how good he is.

Harry quickly unbuttons Louis’ shirt, fingers trailing reverently across each inch of newly exposed, golden skin. He wants to put his mouth on Louis, kiss and nip and mark, but he knows they’ll have time for that later. Right now he just wants Louis naked.

When Harry finishes with the buttons, Louis casts his shirt onto the ground, uncaring of the expense and delicate material. Harry feels cherished through small actions like that: when Louis can’t be bothered to hang up his £500 dress shirt because he’s too desperate to touch Harry.

Harry hastily unfastens Louis’ belt and then helps him climb out of his trousers and boxers, also immediately discarded on the floor. Then Louis is naked and warm in Harry’s lap, his beautiful cock curved elegantly up towards his stomach, a bit of precome already gathering at the tip.

A small moan escapes Harry’s lips at the sight, and Louis smiles. He places his palms flat on Harry’s stomach and slides them down slowly, fingernails scratching lightly at the skin. He trails them down Harry’s thighs until they snag on the waistband of his boxers. “Let’s get you out of these,” Louis suggests, but his tone indicates it’s anything but a suggestion.

Harry lifts his hips so Louis can pull them the rest of the way down his thighs before throwing them into the pile of clothes on the floor.

With naked skin on naked skin, Harry suddenly wants to be touching Louis everywhere. His hands come up to rest on Louis’ hips, holding him firmly on his thighs. Louis smiles softly before leaning down to connect their mouths again in a sweet kiss.

“Love you,” Louis whispers into his mouth, as if it were a secret between the two of them. “Love you so much. Always so perfect.”

Harry whines, lips parting so that he can lick into Louis’ mouth, trace every wet, warm corner, and suck mercilessly on his tongue.

Louis responds eagerly, giving as good as he gets. He pulls back from Harry, immediately attaching his lips to Harry’s neck, sucking harshly at the tender flesh. Harry relishes the feeling, loves when Louis leaves his marks all over Harry’s body. Loves feeling claimed, loves belonging to Louis. He hopes it bruises so that for days afterwards he can press his fingers into it to feel the dull throb – a physical reminder of Louis’ love.

When Louis is satisfied with his work, he pulls off with a slick pop. Louis looks at the mark for a moment before pressing his thumb against the tender skin. Harry moans, the spit slick mark already feeling sore. Louis grins at Harry’s reaction before moving down to his collarbones. He bites along the bony ridge, sucking and marking.

As he sucks on Harry’s collarbones, Louis brings up a hand to flick at Harry’s right nipple. Immediately, Harry’s back arches off the bed, nearly bucking Louis off his lap. His nipples are always so sensitive, and Louis’ fingers are lithe and relentless. Louis rolls the nub repeatedly between his thumb and forefinger until Harry is crying out nonsensical words, moaning loudly and gasping Louis’ name.

“Daddy, please,” he begs after a particularly harsh pinch.

“What, baby?” Louis murmurs. “What do you want?”

“Daddy, touch me,” Harry gasps, his cock leaking steadily and desperate for friction.

Louis presses a firm kiss to Harry’s collarbone before sitting back up. “Of course, baby. Been so good, letting me play with you for a bit. Always so good, love you so much.” He shuffles down Harry’s legs slightly until his head is poised over Harry’s cock. “Gonna give you exactly what you want, baby. Always do.”

Harry is about to respond, but then Louis takes the head of Harry’s cock into his mouth, suckling lightly. After being neglected for so long, the pressure on his cock is all at once heavenly and too much too much. Harry cries out, his cock blurting precome into Louis’ mouth. Louis moans happily, darting his tongue out to toy with the slit while he sucks.

Harry moans at the sight of Louis’ ruby red lips stretched over his cock, the red stain trailing up Louis’ cheekbones in an attractive blush.

Louis suckles lightly for another moment before sinking down inch by inch. Harry watches in awe as his cock disappears into Louis’ mouth, and he has to stop his hips from fucking upwards. When Louis’ nose is pressed firmly into Harry’s dark pubic hair, Louis pauses, taking a moment to breathe heavily through his nose. Harry takes deep breaths too, overwhelmed by the sight.

Then Louis’ tongue darts out, tracing patterns onto the underside of Harry’s cock. He slowly pulls back up, tongue tracing and teasing and making Harry throw his head back and moan. The sight is too much as Louis sinks back down a bit quicker. Louis’ head bobbing always brings Harry so close to the edge – he loves seeing his fiancé so desperate for his cock. Harry knows that sucking cock gets Louis off faster than anything, and he knows they are both tipping precariously to the edge.

“Daddy,” Harry moans. “Wanna – Daddy, wanna come –”

Louis pops off at that, the cold air hitting Harry’s cock and causing him to shiver. “Yeah, baby,” Louis rasps, voice deep and wrecked. “Come for me.”

Immediately, Louis sinks back down on Harry’s cock, bobbing his head at a lightning quick speed and making Harry’s eyes roll in the back of his head. It’s too much, it’s wet and perfect, and Harry can’t help it when his hips thrust up erratically before he cries out, coming down Louis’ throat.

Louis swallows it all eagerly, pressing a kiss to Harry’s spent cock when he finishes coming. Harry collapses against the pillows, chest heaving and heart racing. Louis moves back into Harry’s lap, carefully avoiding his softening cock, before leaning down to press sweet kisses to Harry’s mouth. Harry can taste himself on Louis’ tongue, and if he hadn’t just come twice, that would be enough to convince him to flip Louis over and eat him out until they both came again.

After they snog for another minute or so, Harry sneaks his hand down to Louis’ cock. When his fingers brush against it, Harry is surprised to find Louis’ cock already soft and the skin around it wet.

“Daddy?” Harry asks, confused.

Louis huffs a laugh, reaching down to gently peel Harry’s hand off his soft cock. “Came when you were fucking into my mouth,” Louis confesses. “You know how hot that always makes me.”

Harry blushes automatically, but still feels slightly disappointed that he couldn’t get Louis off himself. Louis clearly sees the disappointment in his eyes because he leans down to give Harry a fierce kiss. “How could I help myself? When you look the way you do and are so desperate for my touch? When I come home to find you getting off to a video of me dressed like a twink? God, baby,” Louis breathes, pressing another firm kiss to his lips. “Can’t control myself when I’m with you.”

Harry blinks lazily, eyes feeling heavy, a smile still spreading slowly across his face. “Daddy,” he sighs blissfully, wrapping his arms around Louis and pulling him close.

They snog for a few lazy minutes before Harry feels sleep overtaking him.

“Naptime,” Harry slurs, fighting a yawn,

Louis chuckles, pressing a soft kiss to Harry’s forehead. “Get some rest, my perfect boy. Love you so much.”

Harry sinks into the pillows, Louis’ hand carding through his hair as he begins to drift. The last thing he hears before he falls asleep is the sound of a crowd cheering, a Take That song, and Louis humming quietly to himself.

 

Harry can always tell when Louis is up to something. He’s disastrous at keeping secrets, and Harry learned Louis’ tells long ago.

Louis gets really quiet, which is in itself suspicious, and he always seems to watch Harry with a smirk on his lips. Harry knows something is up when he comes into the bedroom on Friday evening. Louis is propped against the pillows on the bed with his glasses perched on the tip of his nose, staring fixedly at his laptop. Harry walks directly to Louis and climbs onto the bed, intent on curling into his side, when Louis slams the laptop shut and looks at Harry with a horrified expression, eyes wide.

“What?” Harry asks, perplexed.

“Nothing,” Louis says hastily, before discarding his laptop haphazardly onto the bedside table so that he can climb into Harry’s lap and attach their lips.

Harry wasn’t about to press for an explanation, but if Louis wants to distract Harry by snogging him until his lips are numb, then Harry isn’t going to complain.

So Harry doesn’t really mind that Louis seems to be up to something. If Louis is planning something, Harry will probably benefit from it. And he loves surprises, especially when it’s Louis surprising him. Louis loves surprising Harry – his expression goes all fond and he practically bounces out of his skin as he waits for Harry’s reaction. It’s so damn adorable, so yeah, Harry doesn’t mind.

Harry’s all but forgotten about Louis’ suspicious behavior when his alarm goes off early Monday morning. He groans, flailing his arm blindly to find his phone and shut off the incessant ringing. The bed is so warm and cozy, and he has his fiancé’s arms secured snuggly around his waist. Getting out of bed sounds like a horrible idea.

It’s all the worse that Louis has the day off, while Harry has to go back to work.

“Don’t go,” Louis mumbles gruffly into the pillow.

“Don’t tempt me,” Harry grumbles, already untangling himself from Louis and sitting up against the pillows. He blinks down at his fiancé, soft and lovely against the sheets. Louis’ bare shoulder peeks out, and Harry can’t help but lean down and press a kiss to the warm skin.

“Quit your job,” Louis continues, blinking his eyes open lazily to focus on Harry. The small, tired smile he gives has all the air leaving Harry’s lungs. He’s breathtaking. “Quit your job and stay with me. I’ll quit mine too, and then we never have to leave this bed.”

Harry huffs a quiet laugh and can’t resist pressing a kiss to Louis’ brow.

“It’s just a morning shoot, babe,” Harry attempts to placate. “Will be back by lunch.”

Louis rolls his eyes, but the smile stays on his lips. “Promise?”

“Promise,” Harry agrees.

“Good,” Louis says, satisfied. He rolls onto his back and stretches before smirking up at Harry. His voice was already rough from sleep, but when he speaks again, his voice has dropped to a dangerously low octave. “Because I have a surprise for you. And if you’re a good boy and are home when you say you will be, maybe you’ll get your surprise.”

Harry gulps, heart stuttering at Louis’ voice and the dirty implication it brings.

“Will be,” Harry chokes out.

“Hm?” Louis quirks a brow.

“I’ll be home at noon, Daddy. Promise.”

“Good boy,” Louis grins. “Give me a kiss and then go shower. Don’t want you to be late.”

 

Work passes in a blur.

Fortunately, Harry doesn’t have too much to do. His shoot is with a small clothing company and they have a very specific vision that they explain to Harry in painstaking detail. Usually, he resents the lack of creative freedom, but in this case, he’s thankful for it. His brain is definitely not present at the shoot; instead, it drifts far off, wondering what Louis’ surprise could be.

He wonders if it could be a new toy. Louis loves surprising him with new toys. Last time, Louis surprised Harry with a paddle engraved with an L. That evening, he’d spanked Harry until his arse was red and flaming, imprinted with dozens of Ls from the force of the paddle.

Harry goes a little lightheaded just thinking about it, and hopes no one notices that some of the blood in his body is relocating south.

When Harry finishes the shoot at 11:20, he can’t race out of the studio fast enough. It’s only a twenty minute ride on the tube from work to home, but that’s on a good day. Public transport is so unpredictable, and he sends up a silent prayer that there won’t be any delays.

But of course the station is crowded with lunch traffic, and Harry wants to scream when he gets stuck behind a group of teenagers that seem to think it’s a good idea to walk six people wide. He all but shoves them out of the way, racing down the steps of the escalator and onto the platform. He checks his watch, and sees that it’s 11:27. The next train is in one minute, so if it takes the normal twenty minutes, that’s off the tube by 11:48, and that gives him twelve minutes to do the five minute walk home. Easy.

Eighteen minutes later, when he’s one stop away, the train gets held up, stopping in the middle of the tunnel. Harry’s knee bounces frantically, and he looks around at all the other commuters, wondering why no one else is as antsy as he. Probably because no one else is racing home to get an undeniably amazing fucking from their incredibly hot fiancé. It’s kind of a shame.

When Harry bursts out of the station seven minutes later (damn delays and endless escalators), he only has seven minutes left.

Losing all sense of shame, Harry sprints down the street. His bag thumps rhythmically against his back, but Harry can barely focus on the potential damage to his equipment. He just has to make it home and then he’ll worry about the rest later.

Harry bursts through the doors at 11:58, chest heaving and calves burning. But there’s no sight of Louis as he steps into the house. Not in the kitchen or the living room, and he doesn’t hear any movement upstairs.

“Louis?” he calls out, placing his bag on the kitchen island. “I made it! I’m home!”

No response.

Harry toes off his boots and takes off the sunglasses perched in his hair.

“Louis?” he calls out again.

When there’s no response, he shuffles across the kitchen floor, heading up the stairs.

The master bedroom is at the top of the steps, and tentatively, Harry pushes the door open. “Lou…?”

Suddenly, all the breath is knocked out of him, his knees buckling. If Harry had the insight to be thankful, he’d be very thankful that he’s gripping the doorknob as it seems to be the only thing keeping him from sinking to the ground.

“Daddy,” he gasps.

Louis stands smugly in the center of the bedroom, eyes hooded and smile cheeky. His chest is bare, dark lines of his tattoos and toned muscles standing out proudly. But for once, it’s not Louis’ naked skin Harry’s eyes are drawn to.

No, it’s Louis’ lower half, clad in a sinfully tight pair of black leather trousers, clinging to him like a second skin. And attached to the leather trousers is a pair of black suspenders, cutting deliciously into his pronounced chest and shoulders.

And next to Louis – next to Louis is a _pole_ , and he’s casually gripping it with his right hand. It’s the attachable and detachable pole that Louis only brings out when he’s going to dance for Harry, a relic from Louis’ days as an exotic dancer. And _fuck_ there’s a chair next to the pole.

Harry’s mouth has gone dry as he gawks at Louis, hand still in a white knuckled grip on the door handle. His head spins with how fast his blood has rushed from his head to his cock, and his cock is already straining against his jeans. Shit, this is going to be over fast and nothing’s even _happened_ yet.

“Baby,” Louis purrs, voice wickedly deep. “You made it home on time.”

“Y-yes, Daddy,” Harry answers, still leaning heavily on the door. “Said I would.”

“I know you did, baby,” Louis replies, pleased. With the hand not holding the pole, Louis slowly runs his left hand up his body, starting at his hip and ending at his nipple, snapping the tight suspenders against his skin. Harry stares transfixed as Louis looks at him through his eyelashes, smiling devilishly. “Do you like your surprise, baby?”

“Daddy,” Harry breathes, overwhelmed. “ _Love_ it.”

Louis’ smile grows. “But if you love it, why are you so far away?”

Harry can’t think of an answer. He genuinely can’t. He can barely remember how his hand works, having to focus all his energy into releasing the door handle before he can take a step closer. And then another.

When he’s crossed the room, Louis releases the pole and reaches out for Harry. His fingers curl into Harry’s belt loops, tugging him closer. “That’s better,” Louis purrs.

Harry doesn’t know what to do with his hands. He wants to touch, so badly does he want to touch. But now that Louis has become more than his fiancé, he’s become his Daddy, Harry doesn’t know if he’s allowed. He won’t do anything until he’s given permission.

“C-can I touch?” Harry asks, voice thick with need.

Louis smiles mischievously, leaning up to nip Harry’s collarbone before taking a hasty step back, his warmth gone.

“Take off your clothes and sit down,” Louis instructs instead.

Harry’s hands immediately fly to his buttons, practically tearing them apart until his shirt falls open. He doesn’t know if he should make it slow and give his Daddy a show, but usually if that’s what he wanted, he’d instruct Harry to do that. Since he didn’t, Harry is as hasty as possible.

Harry’s not wearing a vest underneath his button up since it’s such a warm day, so his shirt hangs open, exposing his chest. He tugs it off, letting it drop to the floor before tugging at the button of his skinny jeans. He shimmies out of them rather ungracefully, freeing his cock, and he can feel the heat of Louis’ gaze on him, drinking in every inch of newly exposed skin.

When Harry kicks his trousers away, Louis tuts.

Embarrassment washes over Harry. He’s knows better than that – he _knows_ always to fold and put away his clothes. He quickly bends down to pick them up, rushing clumsily to their walk-in closet to drop the clothes in the hamper before returning to his Daddy’s side. 

He sits down in the chair, pleased to feel soft pillows underneath his naked bum. His Daddy always takes such good care of him, and Harry in turn wants to be so good for him.

When Louis murmurs “good boy,” Harry practically melts. He lives for his Daddy’s praise.

Louis smiles and begins walking towards Harry. For a single, glorious second, Harry thinks Louis is going to sit on his lap, but then Louis walks behind Harry.

Harry’s brows pull together in confusion until he hears Louis say in a sharp, clear tone, “Give me your hands, baby.”

Understanding dawns, and Harry’s hands fly behind his chair, wrists crossing with practiced ease. The rope feels heavenly against his skin as Louis winds it around his wrists. He ties a loose knot, one that Harry could break out of easily, but he knows better than to try.

When Louis is satisfied, he walks back to the pole, reaching out to hold it once again.

 “What’s your color, baby?” Louis asks, eyes locked on Harry’s face.

They’ve barely even done anything, but Louis always likes to check in at the beginning, which makes Harry feel so safe and cared for, even when his wrists are bound.

“Green, Daddy. The most green. Big, flashing, neon green.”

Louis chuckles at Harry’s enthusiasm before tucking his thumb back into the suspenders. He looks at Harry through his eyelashes, and the smile he gives Harry is almost fond, even though it’s full of heat.

“Made me so hot the other day, coming home to find you getting yourself off to an old video of me,” Louis begins, voice dripping with desire. “Such a naughty, greedy boy. Should probably be punished.”

Harry gulps, and his already hard cock twitches at the thought.

“But no,” Louis continues, “I decided I didn’t want to do that. Instead, I wanted to do this.” He tilts his chin up, looking at Harry straight on. He snaps his suspenders again as he gestures with his other hand to the pole. “I wanted to give my baby this. If an old video of me in suspenders can get my baby off, I want to give him the updated version. Always looking for new ways to please my baby, and then this comes along, unexpected yet so promising. Ordered these especially for you,” He cocks his hip, showing off the mouthwatering line of his thighs clad in the tight leather. “Thought you’d like them, after how you reacted to that video. My baby wants to watch his Daddy dance, so his Daddy is going to dance for him. So baby, this is for you. All for you.”

Harry’s breath is stuck in his throat, overwhelmed with love for the man that cares for him so fucking much. If Harry opened his mouth right now, he’s sure all that would come out would be an incessant mantra of _iloveyouiloveyouiloveyou_.

But then Louis releases the pole and walks over to the dresser where some speakers and his phone are set up. Harry hadn’t even noticed. Louis taps something on the screen, and suddenly, a deep, thumping bass fills the room and Harry’s heart pounds along with the beat.

For a moment, Louis doesn’t move. He closes his eyes, head tilted back slightly as the music fills the room. Slowly, Louis’ head rolls, chin dipping towards his chest before falling back, leaving his neck bared.

He takes a step towards the pole, body gliding rhythmically. He keeps his back to Harry, and for the first time, Harry sees the full extent of how those leather trousers cling to Louis. His arse is curvy and mouthwatering, the trousers tight and unforgiving. They run down his thighs, accentuating their thickness.

Gracefully, Louis grips the pole with his left hand, swinging himself around so that when he turns, he’s facing Harry. His eyes are dark, and Harry can see the bulge in his trousers, the leather leaving nothing to the imagination.

Louis smirks at Harry, and Harry spares a passing thought to what he must look like. Completely naked with his mouth hanging open and his eyes wide. His chest flushed and his cock leaking steadily onto his tummy. His muscles straining as his arms stay firmly tied behind the chair. He must look so debauched, so easy for his Daddy. But that’s because he is.

His head still lolling lazily with the music, Louis reaches out to grab the pole with both hands. Bracing himself against it, Louis slowly slides down, knees spread and leather stretching with a pleasant crackle. The leather cuts into his thighs, and Harry can practically see Louis’ muscles flexing.

Louis stays crouched down for a moment, bouncing minutely to the music.

But then the bass drops heavily, and Louis suddenly pulls himself back up, hands gripping the pole as he hooks a leg around and lifts himself off the ground as he spins around it. Harry’s head spins in kind as he watches, mouth dry.

Louis lands on one foot, other leg still hooked around the pole. Holding on tightly, Louis leans backwards. His back muscles strain and his body looks golden in the room’s soft light.

But then Louis pulls himself back up, spinning around two, three, four times, before stopping. He lands on both feet, gripping the pole and sinking down, down, down. He’s practically humping the pole, and Harry can almost feel each thrust. His body aches with how much he wants to touch and be touched.

Louis spins around again, but stops when he’s in front of Harry. He turns his back so that his arse is facing Harry, and repeats the motion, sinking down. Harry’s eyes stay locked on his Daddy’s arse, tight and rippling against the confines of the leather. Harry wants to bite, wants to sink his teeth into the thick meat of Louis’ bum. His hands twitch against the rope, wanting to break free.

Slowly, Louis pulls himself back up, spinning several more times, curving his body around the pole and putting all his best parts on display.

After one more crouch down, Louis slides up the pole, eyes locked on Harry’s. Abruptly, he releases the pole, steps around it, and practically glides towards Harry.

He stops in front of the chair, placing both hands on opposite sides of the head rest, but keeping his body far away. “Like my little dance, baby?” Louis purrs, voice velvet and heat.

Harry chokes out a small noise, somewhere in between a gasp and a whine. His throat is so dry that he has to swallow a couple of times before he can speak. When he does, his voice is so low he hardly recognizes it. “Love it, Daddy. Love it _so much_.”

“Good,” Louis replies, obviously pleased. “Now time for part two. And remember: no touching.”

Suddenly, Louis drops into Harry’s lap, and Harry immediately lets out a desperate moan of pleasure. The cool leather feels like heaven on Harry’s overheated skin, and his head presses back into the chair, trying to take in as much of Louis as he can.

Louis’ eyes stay locked on Harry’s as he begins to gyrate his hips, rocking back and forth. He keeps his body away from Harry’s cock, not providing it any friction despite the close press of their bodies.

Harry focuses in on where their bodies are touching – Louis’ bum pressed against his thighs as he grinds rhythmically. His movements eventually speed up, and one of Louis’ hands reaches into Harry’s curls. Roughly, Louis pushes Harry’s head back into the head rest, tipping his head back so that Louis can have good access to his neck. Louis attaches his lips to Harry’s neck, biting and sucking harshly at the skin. Harry’s mouth falls open and a full body moan escapes his lips, savoring the feeling. He knows Louis is trying to leave a mark, and God he wants him to. Wants to see the bruises his Daddy put on him for days after.

Louis pulls back with a slick pop, but keeps his hand tangled in Harry’s hair. “God, baby,” Louis moans, hips speeding up. “You look like fucking sin. Make me so hard.”

“Daddy,” Harry whimpers. “Please –”

“What baby?” Louis asks huskily, pulling his hand out of Harry’s hair to flick at his nipples, first the right, then the left. “What do you want?”

“Please – want to touch –” Harry begs, wanting to touch Louis more than he wants to come.

Louis smirks down at Harry, and for a moment, they just watch each other: Louis’ hips grinding in tantalizing figure-eights while Harry tries to find the strength just to stay upright.

But then, Louis leans forward and gives a sweet kiss to Harry’s slack mouth. Harry can’t even reciprocate, but Louis doesn’t linger long enough for Harry to try. “Been so good, letting me put on a show for you,” Louis purrs into Harry’s ear. “Want you to touch me, baby. Touch me.”

And that’s all the permission Harry needs. With one harsh pull, Harry loses his restraints, his hands flying up to grab Louis’ hips.

Louis chuckles to himself as he climbs off of Harry’s lap and turns around so that now his back is to Harry’s chest. “So eager. Makes his Daddy feel so special.”

Harry can’t even respond, too busy trying to touch everywhere at once.

He starts with Louis’ thighs, running his palms over the leather. It’s cool under his hands, but Harry can almost feel the heat of Louis’ skin through the fabric. He feels Louis’ thighs tremble as he continues to dance, hips rocking fluidly as Harry touches.

Then his hands run up Louis’ chest, relishing the feel of the sweat slick skin. He slides his hands up and down Louis’ torso, toying with his chest hair and feeling the soft planes of his tummy.

His fingers slip under the suspenders, and he snaps them harshly against Louis’ skin. He savors Louis’ sharp intake of breath, wondering how much the snap of the suspenders stings. He does it again and again, knowing they’re grazing his nipples every time. Harry wonders if they’re turning red and puffy from the stimulation.

And all the while, he keeps his lips attached to Louis’ neck, kissing and nipping at the skin, wanting to leave a mark as impressive as the one Louis gave him. He relishes the salty taste of Louis’ skin, lapping at the sweat running down his neck. He can smell faint traces of cologne, which Louis must have put on especially for this since he didn’t go to work today.

Louis’ head lolls to the side as Harry continues to kiss his neck, and he feels Louis’ hips stuttering erratically. Harry preens knowing that Louis is as affected as he is.

But then, Louis slides his bum back just a bit, and he has the upper hand again.

Harry’s mouth pops off Louis’ skin as an obscene moan escapes his lips. The friction against Harry’s cock is amazing, and he feels heat rapidly pooling in his belly. He feels like he’s been on edge for hours, and if Louis keeps rocking his hips this way, it’s about to be all over.

“Daddy,” he gasps into Louis’ skin, hips bucking to meet Louis’ practiced rolls. “Gonna come –”

But then Louis’ heat is gone, and Harry can’t help the frustrated whine that escapes his lips.

His eyes focus in on Louis, who’s standing a couple steps in front of Harry, body shining and chest heaving. For a moment, they just stare at each other as they catch their breath. The air in the room is thick and warm, and the bass of the music still shakes the walls.

Louis doesn’t say anything as he reaches to his shoulders. His fingers hook under his suspenders and he pulls so that they fall to his side. Then his hands go for the button of his trousers, popping it open and slowly peeling them down his thighs, revealing inch after inch of golden skin. And _Christ_ he’s not wearing any pants. His cock springs free, an angry red and already leaking against his tummy.

When Louis is finally, _finally_ naked, he kicks his trousers away. He reaches towards the dresser, fingers closing around a bottle of lube that Harry hadn’t noticed before. Harry breathes in sharply as Louis snaps open the bottle and pours a bit onto his fingers. Capping the bottle, he places it back on the dresser and then turns around so that his arse is facing Harry. His left hand reaches up to grasp the pole and he leans heavily against it.

Harry moans loudly and is about to get out of his chair when Louis looks over his shoulder.

“Harry,” he snaps, voice brusque and authoritative. “You are to look and not touch.”

Harry whimpers; can’t help it. His Daddy is standing in front of him, every inch of his smooth, delicious skin on display and all Harry wants to do is touch. Touch with his mouth, his hands, his cock. And he loves fingering Louis – loves making him fall apart under his hands. But apparently that’s not what Louis has in mind.

Louis watches closely as Harry sits on his hands in an attempt to obey. When Louis seems satisfied that Harry won’t touch, he turns his head back around and brings his slick right hand behind him.

Harry gasps as Louis’ index finger disappears into his hole. He can see the tight ring of pink muscle fluttering around Louis’ finger, desperately begging for more. A moan escapes Louis’ lips, and Harry tears his eyes away from Louis’ hole to focus in on his face.

Louis’ head is tilted to the side, probably so that Harry can see his expression. His eyes are squeezed shut and his mouth hanging open in pleasure as he steadily pumps his finger in and out of himself. Louis’ lips are bright red and his hair is matted with sweat to the back of his neck. All Harry wants to do is put his mouth on Louis’ to make it even redder and to run his hands through the sweat sticky hair.

But he’s a good boy so he sits on his hands and watches.

His eyes zero back in on Louis’ hole when he adds a second finger. He watches in rapt fascination as Louis’ fingers begin to scissor and stretch his hole, loosening it up so that Harry’s cock will be able to fit.

Harry’s cock twitches at the anticipation of Louis’ tight heat encompassing him very soon, and God, he is ready.

Louis’ wrist continues to flick steadily, stretching himself wider and wider. Harry practically thrashes against the chair when Louis adds a third finger, his hole pink and inviting and Harry wants to slip his own finger in along with Louis’. He wonders idly what would happen if he disobeys – not that he ever would, ever could – but he knows that it wouldn’t be good. He probably wouldn’t get to come tonight, and he really, _really_ wants to come. So he keeps his damn hands to himself and forces himself to be content with watching Louis fingering himself barely a meter from his face.

Louis lets out an unsatisfied whine, and Harry’s eyes fly to his face. Now, his face isn’t screwed up in pleasure, but in frustration. And Harry knows. The awkward angle and the short length of Louis’ fingers makes it difficult for him to find his prostate. And Harry knows he hasn’t found it, knows that Louis gets so loud whenever he presses his fingers up against it.

If Louis had found his prostate, Harry would know. Fuck, the neighbors would probably know.

“Daddy,” Harry whines. “Daddy, want to please you.”

Louis flicks his wrist a couple of times more, before stilling his hand but without removing it from in between his cheeks. He turns his head slightly to look at Harry, eyes wide and desperate. Louis watches him for a moment, and Harry gnaws at his lip while his Daddy decides what will happen next.

Harry breathes out a sigh of relief when Louis’ hand falls away from his hole and he stands up straight, albeit a little wobbly.

“Can never reach my spot,” Louis muses, wiping his lube tacky hand on a cloth before stepping towards Harry. “Only my baby can bring me that kind of pleasure.”

“Please,” Harry begs as Louis gets closer. Harry pulls his hands out from under his legs, and they twitch with how much they want to touch. “Want to please you.”

“You already do, baby,” Louis hums as he reaches Harry.

Without warning, Louis straddles Harry’s lap, lining up his hole with Harry’s cock, and sinks down in one swift motion.

“Daddy!” Harry practically screams, his cock overwhelmed with sensations, the friction too delicious. His hips fuck up into Louis, making him bounce on Harry’s lap.

“Touch me,” Louis breathes, eyes falling shut and hands landing on Harry’s shoulders. “Touch me _everywhere_. Harry, please –”

Immediately, Harry’s hands fly up to cradle the back of Louis’ head and press their mouths firmly together. The kiss is hot and messy, both of them desperate and breathing too hard. But Louis quickly takes control of the kiss, licking hungrily into Harry’s mouth and claiming his tongue. Louis’ hands move from Harry’s shoulders to his head, holding Harry’s head at the perfect angle.

Harry’s hands fall away and land on Louis’ thighs. He feels them tremble as Louis rocks himself down onto Harry’s cock. Louis rides him with determination – fucking himself at a steady, unrelenting pace. Harry’s hips thrust up to meet Louis’ bounces, and both of them gasp into the other’s mouth.

Harry grips Louis’ thighs, shifting him slightly as he continues to thrust up. He knows the second he finds Louis’ sweet spot from the way his head falls back and a high pitched, breathy moan falls from his lips.

“Harry!” Louis cries out, pressing his face into Harry’s neck as he continues to ride him, hands falling back onto Harry’s shoulders. Harry keeps thrusting upwards, knowing he connects with Louis’ prostate every single time from the way Louis’ voice shakes when he says, “God, baby. You’re so good. So, so good. God, I love you so much.”

Harry moans at the declaration, hips stuttering. He feels heat pooling in his belly, that glorious tingling sensation that indicates he is hurtling towards the edge.

Harry can hear the slick sound of Louis’ cock hitting his tummy over and over as he rides him. Harry is mesmerized by the sight, watching transfixed as Louis’ perfect, wet cock bounces against his stomach.

He grasps Louis’ thighs tighter, feeling the thick muscles flexing and retracting underneath his hands. Harry grunts at each thrust, wishing he could hold Louis even tighter, press their bodies together until they’re both coming against the other.

Even as he rides Harry, Louis keeps up a soft mantra of praise. “So good, Harry. My best boy. Your cock always feels so amazing, _God_. So thick and perfect – fills me up so well. Going to make me so wet soon, aren’t you, baby? You’ve been on edge for ages, can’t wait to see you come. Always so beautiful when you come…”

“Daddy,” Harry gasps, overwhelmed by Louis’ heat and Louis’ touch and Louis’ words. He’s spiraling closer and closer to the edge, and the only thing keeping him from falling over the edge is that his Daddy hasn’t said he can yet.

“Want to see you come, Harry,” Louis grunts, bounces becoming erratic, the slap of his cock on his belly more frantic. “Come for me, baby. Come –”

With a cry, Harry thrusts up once more into Louis, hips stilling and arms reaching around Louis’ back to pull them flush together as he comes. Louis cries out too, and Harry feels his stomach splattered with wet stickiness as Louis follows him over the edge.

They cling to each other tightly, desperately, as they both finish coming, chests heaving and pressed together.

Harry feels Louis’ hands slip into his hair, tugging his head up gently.

“Baby,” is all Louis says, his voice reverent, before pressing his lips to Harry’s.

Harry can barely return the kiss, mouth slack and head still spinning. But Louis is gentle, kissing him with sweetness and love, hands carding through his hair.

Louis keeps kissing him softly as he gingerly lifts off Harry’s cock. Without thinking, Harry slides his hand down Louis’ back to his hole, feeling the wetness leaking out.

Louis pulls back with a gasp. “Cheeky boy,” he reprimands, but there’s no heat behind the words. He presses another kiss to Harry’s lips before reaching around to pull Harry’s hand away from his stretched hole.

“Can you stand, baby?” Louis murmurs against Harry’s lips.

Harry thinks about it for a moment, dragging his feet along the carpet. He nods, and Louis helps him stand before leading him to the bed and helping him lie down.

Harry’s head feels fuzzy and he whines softly when Louis’ heat disappears, but it quickly returns. He feels Louis rubbing a wet flannel gently over his skin, cleaning him up. Then Louis presses a bottle of water to his lips which Harry happily gulps down.

When Louis climbs back into bed, he pulls Harry flush against his chest, arms wrapping around his waist and lips pressing to his neck.

“You were so good, baby. Did so good. I’m so proud of you. That was so fucking hot, Harry. God. You’re perfection, absolute perfection. Can’t wait to marry you. Can’t wait to be yours. Legally yours. But you’re mine – always going to be mine. Give you everything you want, for the rest of your life. You’re good, so good…”

Harry listens to Louis’ sweet words as his head slowly starts to clear. Louis’ voice always brings him back the fastest, always grounds him.

When Harry shifts in Louis’ arms, turning around to face him, Louis asks, “How are you feeling, my love?”

Harry closes his eyes for a moment as he smiles blissfully. “So good,” he answers honestly. “That was so amazing. I – I just really needed that, Lou. You always know exactly what I need.”

Louis’ eyes crinkle as he smiles, and he leans forward to press a kiss to Harry’s lips. “Always. Give you what you want, what you need. Anything. Always.”

Harry burrows into Louis’ chest, arms squeezing tight around each other. “Love you so much,” he mumbles into Louis’ warm skin.

“Oh, my darling, I love you too,” Louis says, and Harry feels a kiss on the top of his head. “Never going to stop.”

Harry sighs contentedly, drifting to sleep wrapped in the arms of the man he loves and with the gentle warmth of the afternoon sun covering his body.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! 
> 
> Tumblr: [casuallyhl](http://casuallyhl.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Tumblr post [here](http://casuallyhl.tumblr.com/post/157480248503/title-suspended-in-the-moment-author-casuallyhl)
> 
> Part Two will be up later in the week if you want some more daddy kink fun!


End file.
